


Dust in the Wind

by PoliticalPadmé (magnetgirl)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin hates Sand, F/M, Gen, Obi-Wan Needs a Hug, Padmé is The Actual Best, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-30 20:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8548909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnetgirl/pseuds/PoliticalPadm%C3%A9
Summary: during his time on Tatooine, Obi-Wan is haunted by a memory of Padmé





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thistlerose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/gifts).



Obi-Wan had too much of two things in his exile on Tatooine: time and sand.

Anakin didn't like sand.

 _"It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."_ Obi-Wan heard the clunky lament in two voices simultaneously. Anakin's, young, and frightened. And Padmé's, yearning, and gracious.

Anakin had a way of speaking his mind that Obi-Wan did not. Obi-Wan trusted the rules, and the Order, and the Republic. Even now, when all three had been abandoned and destroyed, Obi-Wan waited in his lonely exile for the appropriate time to act. For the child to grow into his destiny. For the Rebellion to grow in strength. For democracy to be restored. Obi-Wan waited for the galaxy to need him again. He trained, he meditated, he observed. When the call came he would be ready. But he waited.

Qui-Gon would not wait. If their destinies were switched and Qui-Gon were corporeal and Obi-Wan one with the Force, Qui-Gon would take a more active role in the resistance. Qui-Gon would have been a better tutor to Anakin.

Too much time led to enumerating his many regrets.  

Anakin would not wait. Anakin never waited. Obi-Wan never understood before. Before the sand. Before Vader. Before he watched Padmé die, holding their son in his arms. Obi-Wan was raised in a creche, like all Force-sensitive children born under the Republic. He was taught to trust the Force, respect the Order. Anakin grew up here, in the sand, and the wind, and the heat of two suns beating down on a desert the Republic ignored. He was taught to hide, to race. Not waiting was how he survived.

_"It's not the sand he hates,” Padmé explained. "It's what it represents."_

They were on a mission. One of many, they all blurred together these long, lonely days. The details didn't matter and only brought on more regrets. What if they’d sent Anakin to Utapau, or they'd both stayed behind? What if he'd revealed Anakin and Padmé's relationship instead of pretending he didn't see? What if he'd told them he knew before it was too late? What if he'd listened to Dooku? What if he'd stood up to the council himself? What if he'd brought Anakin back to Tatooine years ago? What if he hadn't waited? What if he'd spoken his mind? 

What if Anakin's mother had not died? What if Qui-Gon had not died? What if Satine had not died? What if Padmé had not died?

How many people had to die for Obi-Wan to learn the truth about sand?

The rules. The Order. The Republic. They didn't matter to people for whom water is a luxury. Padmé understood. She may have been the only one.

 

_"Hatred is the path to the Dark Side," Obi-Wan said in concern. It was one of the main tenets of the Jedi Code._

_Padmé raised a skeptical eyebrow. "From what I understand, so is love."_

_"No," Obi-Wan objected, but her eyes made him pause. "Not..." He sighed. "Attachment -- the love we give individuals -- distracts us from our duty to the whole."_

_"The whole is made up of individuals," Padmé countered. "And sometimes we have to focus on the one who needs us the most. Government shouldn't be run by triage but if we ignore people in favor of principles we will be trapped in a crisis we created."_

_Obi-Wan was silent. Transfixed by the passion in her voice, the depth of feeling in her eyes. For one sudden, terrible, beautiful, moment he wanted to embrace her, hold her, kiss her. To throw away the rules and the code, to ignore the reality of who they were and forget their obligation to Anakin, who was intricately and intimately attached to them both regardless of what any of the three would say._

_He wanted to feel all of it._

_Padmé's cheeks grew red at the intensity of Obi-Wan's scrutiny and they both lowered their eyes. A long awkward silence stretched between them until finally Obi-Wan stood, brushed the sand out of his cloak._

_"The Republic is lucky to have you," he said, softly, before moving to check in with the clones._

_"The Order is lucky to have you," she answered, equally soft._

 

Obi-Wan woke every day to sand, time, and regret. But also to the individual who needed him the most.

The child.

Their child.

Obi-Wan watched Owen Lars teaching young Luke to drill holes in the sand. They worked for hours under the hot suns. Luke wore a hat with a wide floppy brim his aunt wouldn’t let him go out without this time of day. Obi-Wan couldn't see the boy's eyes but he knew them. When the day's planting was done, Owen retreated to the comfort of the homestead but Luke stayed out until the suns set, running from dune to dune, arms outstretched to mimic a fighter.

Obi-Wan watched. And waited.


End file.
